When I’m floundering fixedly on facing fears; fully aware of my shortcomings, I find you pointing proudly in the direction that I should go. Don’t you know that if I go, I go with the knowledge that I am not enough out there on my own? My needs are not necessarily manifold, but many are they and they won’t go away without first feeding that part of me which hungers for your staunch support; stepping in line with me.

So when you point, please don’t point with those elegant finely forbidding fingers. Instead, firmly hold my hand, grasp it lovingly and lead me along the path where the bluebells grow, dancing in freshly fallen snow, in the chill wind of April’s noon-day sun.

It’s synonymous to “When I want someone to listen to me and they keep on talking” sometimes you just want someone to listen and knowing no matter how wrong you are, they’ll still receive you the same way. Great post

Well I try to understand poetry completely. I feel with poems, there’s always a message that I don’t see, even when I do write it. Interpretations can get lost in translation. It’s awesome because you can never tell someone’s true emotion when writing because theoretically it’s all words. It’s up to your brain to decipher everything.
Example: As I write this comment I am actually lying down being lazy. But you would never picture someone being lazy when responding. Crazy huh?

Well I don’t know about that! :)) I can picture you doing just that!
Yes poetry is very much open to interpretation as you correctly observe. I like it when poetry is not too complex and you don’t have to try too hard to work out what the author/poet is trying to say, and even then, that sometimes can be something very different even when you think you know what they are trying to say. Byron wrote a poem about a drunken night out, I think in Italy, and most people think it is an intimate romantic poem mourning the loss of a loved one. Go figure! I will try and dig it out for you and send you the link to see your take on it.
I am sitting up in bed, one eye on the tv and another on my notifications. Did that enter your mind when I responded just now?? LOL

Lmfao sorry but it’s the truth the Internet gives people that avatar of their pictures. We don’t know what they are doing on the other side. I’m sorry to ruin your brunch. When you make it to San Francisco I’ll take you to the best brunch place here

The poem is a plea for recognition of the speaker’s all too human limitations, reassurance, and gentle non-judgmental guidance from a friend or loved one. We all face situations in life that feel overwhelming, so can readily imagine ourselves in the speaker’s shoes.

Clearly, the speaker is feeling unsure. Her supposed flaws loom large. That suggests the matter has great significance to her. The reader does not though come away with the same opinion the speaker has of herself. She describes herself as “not enough” out there on her own, while the very language of the poem betrays her intelligence.

It is the support of a friend or loved one the speaker needs to bolster her confidence. Nothing else is lacking.

The final image is a hopeful one. There is a path where the bluebells grow, and – one way or another – the speaker will find it.

You are obviously misguided…but in a good way (LOL). Seriously, the poem didn’t need any validation from me or anyone else. I actually did look up bluebells though. You won’t believe this. They are symbols of humility?! Between the two of us, we have more than our share of that virtue. :)))

I think you write from a deep place, Sam. Some of that is conscious. You’re clearly a fine wordsmith. But some, I’m guessing, is unconscious. That gives your poetry a universal quality. Poetry has that ability to serve as a mirror. Readers suddenly catch sight of some aspect of themselves or their world they have never been able to express, though they may have felt it many times.

Anna, you are far too kind and far too humble for your own good! :))
Well blow me down with a feather! Bluebells are a symbol of humility? wow! And I wrote that from a place deep in my soul – subliminal huh?
Thanks for your comments. I am truly blessed to be in the company of such a virtuous woman. LOL XxX

Pretty faces fade, but a beautiful soul is eternal. Yes, I’m inclined to agree that it sounds like a prayer …
And age is what it is – imagine if there was only ever youth? We would have no wise old souls … We need those more and more these days …

I agree with you completely! We need wiser “heads” to prevail these days and in every generation which the world sees. This comes with life experience and maturity. It is the way God has set things up on this earth.